


.comfort.crowd.

by tired_uninspired



Series: .comfort.crowd. [1]
Category: waterparks - Fandom
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Crime, Gen, How Do I Tag This, Mentions of Blood, Murder, Song fic, This is my first work, You Decide, maybe it’s not, the gawsten might be platonic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:13:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25017538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tired_uninspired/pseuds/tired_uninspired
Summary: the first time it happened was an accident. well, it was on purpose, but he wasn’t planning for it to happen.he was just going to rough him up.
Relationships: Awsten Knight/Geoff Wigington, gawsten (platonic)
Series: .comfort.crowd. [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1843786
Comments: 8
Kudos: 7





	.comfort.crowd.

**Author's Note:**

> it’s kind of graphic, continue at your own risk.

it was starting to hurt. 

like, _really_ hurt.

it had been eating away at awsten mentally since it began. 

it wasn’t just like guilt. it should have been. but this was different, it was more and less at the same time. he was fucking scared because he didn’t  _ feel _ guilty.

that wasn’t what he meant, though.

this physically hurt.

was that even possible?

he’d felt sick from anxiety before, but this was different. this was like that times ten, and he was sure it wasn’t just the physical strain from what he did.

the first time it happened was an accident.

well, it was on purpose, but he wasn’t originally planning for it to happen.

he was just going to rough him up, the same way he had a few times with various people before.

that was, until he began to fight back.

he had a pocket knife with him. it wasn’t his, but he figured if things went badly he might need it.

and things did.

he drove it into the back of the other man’s neck.

there was so much blood.

he didn’t process much of it, and he still couldn’t remember much other than the blood and sound.

it felt good, he remembered that too. and that scared him. this shouldn’t have felt good, he should have been scared of himself.

he wanted to do it again.

and he did.

eventually, tour began.

by then, he’d only done that a few times, most of them with careful planning and different methods. he wanted to experiment, see what was best. it also kept people from connecting the murders. only a two were suspected to be the same person.

he couldn’t quit now. it was an addiction, he knew that. it was his escape, too. he couldn’t quit.

so he didn’t stop.

he turned his phone on to check the time.

he needed to get up.

he walked out from his bunk, a smile plastered onto his face in an attempt to hide his state. he thought he might throw up. it was exhausting.

only one other person was on the bus at the moment.

he knew if he needed to he could tell him. not the whole story, but the hurt he was feeling. he wouldn’t judge. he’d stayed with him through so many breakdowns and panic attacks, a little rant wouldn’t change anything.

he couldn’t get his mind off of the events from a few hours ago, though.

he could practically hear it from his memories, the other on his knees, begging for mercy.

his voice played over and over in the red-haired boy’s mind. “somebody fucking help me!” over and over.

just like all the others.

it was the middle of the night, though. no one was out where he had been at four in the morning.

he’d used his knife. his favorite. it made it feel more real than other methods he had tried.

he was fairly proud of his work when he had finished. 

he cleaned the body nicely. tried to remove all fingerprints. made sure it looked almost alive. almost.

he knew it wouldn’t look the same when it was found, but it was for his own satisfaction.

he’d hidden the body. by the time someone noticed he was missing and the cops began searching, he would be out of town.

he felt like he was going to collapse as he walked away. his breath wasn’t steady and he later noticed it had caused his throat to hurt.

he knew he’d hear about it on the news later. he always did. whether it took a couple hours or a couple weeks.

it was national news, too. it started out local before they got more widespread.

before tour started.

his last kill before tour was identical to the five (three of which had been found) he’d done since. the way he killed, the way he positioned and hid the body, he even found similar looking locations.

it was getting kind of boring doing everything randomly. he’d discovered he liked the connections, watching people try and figure them out.

he forced himself back to the current moment, where he was leaning against his band mate, making a miserable attempt to not cry.

the older boy was unknowingly making him feel worse.

awsten hadn’t been paying attention to the other’s words until he saw the article pulled up on his phone. his stomach dropped immediately.

“i swear they’re following us. it’s in pittsburgh, but they’re saying it was before the denver one. which would line up with our tour dates.”

awsten stared at the picture. it was blurred.

he felt... almost special. not necessarily in a good way, but he knew very few people got to know what the body actually looked like, and he was among them. he knew what it looked like in the moment as well. he knew what it looked like before it was cleaned up. he was the only one.

when it was a person, not just a lifeless vessel.

he apparently hadn’t noticed the way his expression shifted, but the brunette did.

“are you okay?”

“i’m fine, i promise. i don’t need this. i’ll be fine.”

the brunette sighed.

he’d told this lie so many times and it always ended in breakdowns. he wasn’t even good at lying most of the time. he responded with too many words. a simple ‘yeah, i’m good’ would have sufficed. he just wished he knew what was causing it.

“tell me the truth. please.”

_ ‘don’t tell him, he’ll ruin it.’ _

“i- i can’t.”

“i can’t help you if you don’t tell me.”

“all i need is for you to be there with me.” he spent a moment working out what he wanted with himself. “but i don’t wanna play 21 questions tonight.” that song was about things he’d rather forget. he couldn’t take anything else right now.

“what do you wanna play instead?”

“i don’t care.”

“you sure it won’t cause a mess with management?”

“i really, honestly don’t care,” awsten said as he shook his head.

“okay, i’ll talk to them. why don’t you wanna play it?”

“i just-i don’t need that right now. there’s so much going on, i can’t take it. i know it was forever ago but it feels fresh.”

“that makes sense,” he paused. “i don’t blame you. i guess i haven’t been through that but it has to fucking hurt so bad.”

“i-why do i keep doing this shit?” awsten said, already knowing this was a horrible idea. “i know it only makes me worse. it makes everything feel impossible. it’s an addiction at this point. i know that, but- i can’t.”

“what, playing those songs?”

“no.” he was going to cry. it hurt so bad, he could feel it in his head and the back of his throat.

“do you wanna talk about it?”

he broke.

he was sobbing.

his head was resting on the other boy’s shoulder.“i’m sorry. fuck, sorry-“

“i really don’t mind. i like my shirts soggy,” he joked.

the younger let out a weak laugh, quickly followed by more tears. “thank you.”

“for what?”

“being here. i just needed someone around.”

“i’ll always be around. i promise.”

• • •

awsten was doing it again. waiting for another victim. in a parking garage, this time.

it was closing night, after the show. they were in houston.

normally it took place in an area full of trees, but this was his finale. might as well try something new, right?

the bus was parked on the bottom floor though, making this option very convenient. and risky as fuck, but that was part of the fun.

he was on the top floor. there were only a few cars, but enough he could assume at least one of their owners would come back tonight.

and finally, after maybe an hour, one did.

his car just happened to be the one awsten was closest to.

his hair was brown. that was all he was able to process before grabbing his wrist from behind, keeping his grip as tight as he possibly could, and dragging him to a corner.

the screaming had already started. that wasn’t exactly unexpected, though. he knew how to deal with that.

the victim was already trying to fight back.

luckily, awsten was stronger than he looked. especially in a sweater. he shoved him into the wall before throwing his fist at the man’s face.

he was close to unconsciousness, but not completely there. that was what he wanted, so it was okay.

this one felt more real than a lot of the others. everything from removing the knife from his pocket to the feeling of it penetrating the other’s skin.

he wrapped his arm around the front of his neck to keep him in place. he drove the knife into the back of his neck. 

just like the first time. 

he left it there for a second, then ripped the knife out, twisting it as he did. he was breathing heavily, basically panting. he could hear his heartbeat in his ears, but behind that-

“awsten?”

“geoff? what the fuck are you doing here?”

“no. no, what the fuck? did you- no, you did. it was you. i fucking saw it. you’re covered in blood. what the fuck?”

awsten looked down at himself, over to the body, and suddenly, he was laughing. not hard, and mostly out of shock.

he ran a bloody hand through his red hair. that was a big part of the reason it was red. no one could see if there was blood in it.

this was fucking insane.

geoff  _ caught _ him.

“you’re f-you’re fucked up. you need help. this isn’t even the first fucking time, isn’t it?’

“not by a long shot.”

“this is what had caused all those fucking breakdowns? and this is what you’ve been hiding from me?” geoff paused. “i thought it was something at- at least sort of normal! and you’ve been lying this entire fucking time-“

“well, it’s not exactly the easiest thing to just tell.”

“why?”

“no, it’s my turn. why did you come up here?”

“i don’t owe you shit. i don’t have to tell you.”

awsten looked him in the eyes, but didn’t get to say anything before geoff spoke again.

“i went out of the bus and heard screams. is that what you fucking want to hear?”

shit. he was supposed to keep people from hearing those. there were other people around, he was better than that. he was getting lazy with his work. that was the only possibility. that couldn’t happen.

“now you answer me. why do you do it?”

“at first... well, sometimes things just... don’t feel real. and sometimes the killings don’t. but it shows i have an impact. sometimes i need proof. this is my proof. it’s like being bound by blood to reality.”

“at first?”

“do you remember when i said it was an addiction? this is what i meant. this is. and i love it, but i fucking hate it. all of it.”

the brunette was silent. he said he’d be there for the other, always. did that mean after this too?

they’d been through everything together. best moments and the worst of them.

they were each other’s comfort crowd.

“wanna help me hide him?”

“i-“

_ ‘what a stupid fucking question. he’s going to call the police, not help you. he has to, you didn’t give him a choice.’ _

“yes.”

“what?”

“i’ll help you.”


End file.
